


So Get This

by Klaineaholic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Hair-pulling, Shameless Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 22:52:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17858531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaineaholic/pseuds/Klaineaholic
Summary: Imagine Sam standing in front of you completely naked with an erection and he gestures to it saying, “So get this.”





	So Get This

“You say it all the time,” you argued around your bite of pasta. “Every time there’s a new case, every time you find a new lead. ALL the time.”

While he finished chewing, Sam’s eyebrows adamantly disputed your claim before a word even left his mouth. “I do not–”

Your own brow skyrocketed, and you pointed your fork at him, effectively cutting him off. “You do, and I’ll prove it! How about this.” You grinned. “I’ll make you a bet.” 

Sam’s lips pursed in interest. He raised his glass in your direction with a nod and took a sip. “I’m listening.”

“I bet,” you started, loading your fork up with more pasta, “that you can’t go a whole week without saying the words, ‘so get this’ even once.” Sam’s lips quirked up. 

“What do I get if I win?” he asked, leaning forward over the table. 

You smirked, leaning in just out of reach. “I’ll let you fuck me on any surface of your choosing outside of our bedrooms,” you paused, watching his expression, “while Dean is home.”

Sam’s eyes lit up, his tongue pulling his lip between his teeth. 

“It’s a bet.”

Seven days later, you were actually pretty impressed with Sam’s incredible amount of restraint. Despite the two cases the three of you had worked that week, he hadn’t said the phrase once. A couple times, he started to say, “So..” and you’d jerked your head toward him only to see him smiling mischievously. However, he’d been very deliberate about his choice of words.

You were currently camped out in the library, curled up in a cozy chair with a book, closing in on the last hour of the bet. Dean was out in the garage, and Sam was— where _was_ Sam?

“So get this.”

Your head whipped up from your book. And your jaw dropped. Sam was standing at the doorway. Naked. Hard. Actually hard, and pointing at his cock. He stepped forward into the library, a smug expression plastered across his face, muscles shifting and flexing with every step he took. 

“Did you just–”

He closed in on you, planting his hands on the armrest of your chair, lips just out of reach as the tips of his hair tickled your cheeks. You took in a shaky breath.

“You lost the bet,” you breathed. 

“Did I?” Sam’s lips connected with yours, rough and biting, while he pulled you into his arms, his hands gripping your thighs. Your argument was lost once he set your ass on the table. 

“We’re really doing this?” you whispered as soon as he let you come up for air. He gripped your ass, pulling you up against his length and coaxing a high keen from your lips.

“Hell yes,” he growled into your throat, his teeth digging into you, lighting your nerves on fire. His hands flew to your shorts, tipping you on your back as he tugged them down your ass and off your legs along with your panties. “Better be quiet, baby girl. Don’t want to get caught.”

Sam dropped his head down just as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You saw his mop of hair between your legs, then you were throwing your head back as he bit into the meat of your inner thigh.

“Shhhh- _iiit_ , Sam!” you groaned quietly. His lips migrated to the other side, nibbling and nipping the skin of your thighs and around your cunt. After a few uncontrollable twitches from your hips, his hands dug into your legs, spreading them wider and pressing you down into the table.

You lurched forward when his mouth covered your pussy, tongue pushing through your folds, teeth grazing and tugging gently making you want to scream, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking roughly. Clamping your jaw tight, you let out a “guu- _uuuhh_!” and your hands flew to Sam’s head and yanked his hair.

Sam pulled away with a flushed face and a tick in his jaw. “Turn around,” he rumbled. Before you could move, he pulled you off the table to your feet and spun you until his cock laid hot and heavy against your ass. His hands spread over your hips, your stomach, your breasts, fingers plucking at your nipples and your clitoris like he was playing an instrument. He slowly worked one finger inside you, swirling it and dragging it out, only to slide two in the next time. “Let’s get you ready for me, huh.”

“Sa-aa _yyuum_ ,” you whimpered, trying to wriggle away from his teasing. He huffed in your ear, teeth pulling at your lobe, your neck and shoulders, his lips attaching to a spot that made you whine and arch back into him. He added a third finger after a few strokes, still sliding them so slowly.

“C’mon baby girl,” he growled, “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck- _ung_! Sam, pleas- _ahh_. Fuck me, please,” you rushed.

He rutted against you, lips trailing along your jawline. “Where?” He tugged your earlobe between his lips, dragging your head back toward him. “Be specific, baby girl.”

“Oh _gawwhhd_. On the— _umf_ fucking table. Please!” Sam complied, releasing your torso from his grasp so you could lie down on the table, your ass on display as he took a step back.

_THWACK._

You choked back a surprised yelp at the sting of Sam spanking you. “You like that, don’t you, baby?” he asked. His hand spread over the curve of your ass, gripping it tight before swatting at it again, pulling a needy moan from your throat. “Answer me.”

“Yeah- yes, fuck yes,” you whimpered. Sam dragged his cock down and through your folds, pressing in slowly, letting you shift and rock and grind until his hips were flush against your ass, your arms spread out across the table, gripping the edges for support.

“Jee-zus, Y/N,” Sam grunted. “Taking my cock so good, baby.” He slowly moved, teasing until only the head of his cock was inside you, and then he slammed his hips against you. You barely stifled your scream as you were overcome with pleasure just hinging on the brink of pain, your hips digging into the table, the wood surface pressing against your cheek and your nipples, and Sam’s hard dick repeatedly ramming into you as fast as he could go.

Your pleasure was building quickly, and your walls were beginning to tighten around him already. “Fuck, Y/N, your tight little cunt feels so good,” Sam moaned between thrusts. “Wanna mark you up, give you bruises,” his hands tightened around your hips, “Want you to remember whose you are when you see yourself.”

“Yours, Sam, _aahh_! I’m all yours!” you keened. The drag of his dick inside you made you want to cry out and scream, Dean hearing you from the garage be damned.

Sam reached out, his hand running up the nape of your neck to grab as much hair as he could, and he pulled. Your back arched, and you could feel your nervous system shooting the sharp pain from your head down to your core, rolling you over the edge and pulling Sam along with you.

He rode out your waves, even after he began to soften inside you. When your hips stopped twitching from your orgasm, he pulled himself out with a sigh, his hands smoothing over your back and hips, soothing the bruises he left there. You lied still on the table for a few moments longer before propping up onto your elbows.

“You definitely cheated.”

Sam smirked as he handed you your crumpled clothes from the floor. “How so?”

“You totally said ‘so get this’ within the timeframe of the bet!” you challenged him. Sam shrugged.

“You’re not complaining, are you?” he simpered. You snorted.

“Definitely not. Though I’m also not eating on this table until you’ve cleaned it,” you laughed, pushing an accusatory finger straight into his bare chest. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he snatched your hand into his grasp and pulled you toward the hallway.

“C’mon, I got a better idea of what I can help clean up.”


End file.
